


A.K.A. The Totally Believable Gwen Poole

by CuteAsAMuntin, Gays_and_Memes



Category: Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Unbelievable Gwenpool
Genre: Alcohol, Bad Flirting, Bisexual Disaster Girlfriends, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Detective Noir, Detectives, F/F, Fluff, Human Disaster Gwen Poole, Human Disaster Jessica Jones, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Light-Hearted, Oral Sex, Private Investigators, Rarepair, Secret Identity, Stakeout, fangirling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:00:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuteAsAMuntin/pseuds/CuteAsAMuntin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gays_and_Memes/pseuds/Gays_and_Memes
Summary: Jessica Jones picked a pretty average fire escape as her perch for a pretty average stakeout. To her slight dismay, the fire escape was right outside the apartment of a big fan.
Relationships: Gwessica, Jessica Jones/Gwen Poole
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	A.K.A. The Totally Believable Gwen Poole

**Author's Note:**

> When you turn to your joyfriend like, "What if our favorite human disaster ladies kissed on a stakeout?" 😳
> 
> And then they're like, "But what if?" 😳
> 
> Gay culture is co-writing a story about chaotic bisexual disasters smooching, and I'm not sorry.
> 
> -CuteAsAMuntin

Gwen unlatched the window, forced the sash up its rusty track, and leaned the top half of her body out into the cold fresh air. 

“Ahh… AHHH!” she yelped, jumping back and smacking her spine against the small window frame. “What the hell?!”

Just below and to her right, a slender figure stirred slightly on the platform of the building’s fire escape. Gwen focused her eyes as they grew accustomed to the darkness outside, and saw that the figure was holding a large, professional-looking camera and a thermos. 

“Calm down,” the figure scoffed with disdain. “I’m a private investigator. I’ll be gone soon enough.” 

Gwen raised her eyebrows. Even in those few words, she could hear the slight slur to the other woman’s voice. 

“Oh yeah? Getting a picture of anything interesting?” She leaned back out over the windowsill.

The PI lifted her camera with a sigh, snapping a few shots of something across the street before glancing back over and responding. “Not really. Not that it’s any of your business.” 

Gwen smirked and scanned the building across the street, trying to find whatever window held the secrets this mysterious woman was trying to capture. “Isn’t it though? I mean, you’re literally camped out right underneath my window. This space is practically part of my apartment. I’m pretty sure direct access to a rickety fire escape was touted as one of the amenities.” 

“You don’t say,” the other woman snapped in return. “Welp, I got what I came for. I’ll be getting out of your hair and out of your ‘apartment’ now,” she said, making sloppy finger quotes with her camera still in one hand. Grabbing the thermos with her free hand, she stood up. and Gwen gasped as the light played across her dark hair, pale skin, and black leather jacket. 

“Oh my god, are you — are you Jessica Jones?!”

The other woman’s eyes narrowed, and she glanced around. “Depends. Who’s askin’?”

Gwen’s face lit up, and she did a little dance in the window. “Yes! I knew it! Ugh, I’m such a huge fan. You are such a fucking badass.”

“Uhh… thanks. I guess,” Jessica responded, putting her camera strap over her head and closing her thermos. 

Gwen’s eyes narrowed on the thermos as Jessica turned, poised to leave. “Wait!” Jessica turned back, looking suspicious and perhaps annoyed. “Why don’t you come inside for a bit? I have vodka.”

“I don’t… know you. And I don’t really like vodka.” She turned towards the street again.

“I’ve got, uh… Brown! Alcohol!” Gwen wheedled desperately. “And sure, you don’t know me, but come on. Do you really have anything else better to do? Just chill with me for a bit. Have some free booze. If you’re bored out of your skull, it’s not like you can’t leave whenever you want.”

Jessica sighed and turned back, eyeing the blonde with speculation. “Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes and moving towards the window. “But be warned… I’m not a lightweight.”

Gwen squealed and ducked back into the apartment. She skipped over to the mini bar (okay, the dinged-up Ikea Räskog she’d rescued from the curb last week) and made herself a drink. 

“And if you squeal like that again, I’ll be gone faster than you can say ‘OMG’,” the super-powered PI added.

Jessica was taking a seat on the nearby couch when Gwen joined her. Holding a drink in one hand, she handed a fifth of whiskey to the other woman.

Jessica took the bottle, one eyebrow raised, looking slightly impressed. “Bottoms up,” she said, taking a long draw. When she lowered the bottle back down, she glanced around the apartment. “So. What’s a girl like you doing in a dump like this.” She looked Gwen up and down. “You more messed up than you look or something?”

Gwen’s smile deepened. She took another sip from the plastic cup (filled mostly with ice and Coke—after all,  _ she _ wasn’t the one with super-tolerance) to hide it. “Maybe I’m just drowning horribly in student debt. Or I have a tragic addiction to microtransactions in some Candy Crush clone.”

The dark-haired woman snorted at that. “All right, “ she said, putting her hands up in mock surrender. “I get it. None of my business.” She surveyed the vibrant clutter of the tiny studio.“Guess you can’t exactly expect much if you’re trying to afford a place without any roommates.” She glanced briefly towards the window. “Even in this neighborhood.”

“No kidding,” Gwen agreed. “I don’t know how you can afford  _ your _ place. Though I guess plot is its own form of rent control.” She added thoughtfully. “Plus you gotta be somewhere central enough to easily interact with people like Trish Walker as well as Luke Cage. ”

“What?” Jessica asked, the bottle stopped halfway to her lips.

“Hmm?” Gwen replied, meeting her gaze with wide, faux-innocent eyes. “Hey, you wanna know something?” She scooted closer and leaned in until her loose-knit sweater hung forward a little. From the way the private investigator’s eyes flicked down and her eyebrow raised, she’d just gotten an eyeful that distracted her from Gwen’s tendency to ramble on about things she knew a little too much about for most people’s comfort—and if the faint dusting of pink rising on the superhero's cheeks was any indication, she’d also enjoyed the distraction.

“I don’t know,  _ do _ I want to know?” Jessica asked, the bottle of whiskey finally making its way home to her lips.

The blonde girl looked up at her from under long, mascara-darkened lashes. “You’ve been my favorite superhero since I first heard about you.”

Jessica rolled her eyes and moved to the edge of the couch, preparing to stand. “Yeah, well, I’m not a hero,” she said, voice flat. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“No, no, wait!” Gwen yelped, half-jumping into Jessica’s lap and putting her hand on the other woman’s arm. 

Without hesitation, Jessica grabbed her hand and twisted it back. Gwen cried out, and Jessica’s face softened. She dropped Gwen’s hand like it had burned her and turned away. 

Sighing, she closed her eyes for a moment to collect herself. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I just… I don’t like being called a superhero. I’m not… one of  _ them _ and I don’t want the association.” 

“Yeah, I guess I wouldn’t want anyone to think I was running around on the same team as Tony Stark, or worse Scott Summers, either,” Gwen responded, mouth twisted in a rueful grin. Her face brightened, even as she was still rolling her sore wrist. “You really are amazing though, Jessica Jones. You’ve done so much to help people, even if you say you want nothing to do with the hero business. Plus, you’re  _ super _ hot.”

A startled laugh burst out of Jessica’s mouth. Gwen carried on before she could cut in. “I mean, seriously, that’s got to be another one of your powers, right? You’re, like, unreasonably hot.”

Jessica rolled her eyes again. “Right. How drunk are you exactly? Look, I don’t have time for your fangirl flattery.” She fumbled for her phone. “I’m sure I’ve got to be somewhere anyways. There’s always someone somewhere who needs Jessica Jones to get on a case yesterday.”

In another burst of boldness, Gwen pulled the phone from Jessica’s fumbling fingers and moved further into her lap. “I know someone who needs Jessica Jones,” she said, looking deep into the other woman’s brown eyes. “Right now. Immediately.”

Jessica’s brows furrowed in confusion, but when Gwen’s hand traced a path up her neck and into her hair, the confusion dissipated and she was all action. Her phone dropped to the floor as she latched on to Gwen’s hips with one hand and used the other to pull the younger woman’s face into her own. Gwen felt the hunger in Jessica’s kiss and matched her fervor. Jessica tugged at Gwen’s leggings, and there was a loud ripping sound as the fabric tore. 

“Sorry,” Jessica mumbled, as she leaned back to allow Gwen to pull them off properly.

“Comes with the territory, I’m sure,” Gwen said with a wink and a smile. 

Jessica smirked and reached to pull off her tank top. “You could say that,” she replied, pulling it up over her head and tossing it aside.

As soon as she was free from the shirt, Jessica found herself with a lapful of excited blonde once again. Gwen’s hands skipped up the pale skin of the woman’s torso to cup small breasts through a plain black bra. “Holy Kristen Ritter on a cracker.” The muttered commentary was muffled as she bit and sucked at Jessica’s neck, drawing a gasp with her efforts. “I can’t tell if the writers are punishing me or rewarding me.” She kissed and kitten-licked her way back up Jess’s pale neck and jaw, then swiped her tongue against the seam of her hero’s mouth, begging for entry.

Jessica sighed impatiently, “Do you ever shut up? Actually, I have an idea.” She pressed her mouth and body against Gwen’s, forcing her down onto the couch. Gwen’s lips parted and Jessica responded by slipping her tongue inside. When they finally came up for air, Jessica began to kiss a trail down Gwen’s chest. 

“Wha-?” Gwen’s question was cut off by a firm hand over her mouth. She inhaled sharply through her nose as Jessica’s mouth found its destination. The teasing press of the older woman’s lips and tongue against Gwen’s thin panties was enough to draw the girl’s back into a tight arch. She found herself mouthing at the fingers pressed against her lips as her focus tightened in on Jessica’s body nestled between her legs. Experimental attempts to either sit up or grind down further proved fruitless in the hero’s effortless hold. Gwen went completely lax upon confirming her own delicious helplessness, moaning into the palm still positioned to silence her. 

Once the blonde had finally relaxed in her hold, Jessica paused in her teasing. “I like it when you’re quiet for more than thirty seconds. Do you think you can keep doing that?” Gwen nodded frantically, hoping to inspire the other woman with her enthusiasm. Jessica’s dark eyes crinkled around the edges as she smiled dangerously. She tugged at the last scrap of fabric between Gwen and what was sure to be absolute bliss. “Help me get these off you while you practice being quiet.”

As Gwen clambered to comply, her gaze flicked over the PI’s muscular upper body and dipped toward the sharp hip bones peeking out of her trademark light wash jeans. “Can I… after?” she asked, her earlier brash confidence replaced by a dazed, supplicating look.

“We’ll see,” Jess replied with a chuckle before pinning Gwen back to the couch. She returned to her ministrations on the younger woman, who found herself covering her own mouth instead to remain silent, as Jessica’s were busied with touching her and holding her down for long enough that she must have been tapping into her super-endurance.

When Gwen was finally allowed to sit up, it took her several moments to catch her breath. Once recovered, she quickly redirected her attention toward her initial goal. “Please?” she asked, her fingers trailing down the brunette’s stomach toward the button of her jeans.

Jessica quirked an eyebrow at her. “I suppose you did finally stop with the fangirling,” she agreed. “Sit on the floor.”

“I promise not to laugh and to still think you’re sexy after watching you fall over when you wiggle out of your jeans,” Gwen said with a grin as she followed instructions.

“Uh-huh,” Jess deadpanned, keeping her balance as she removed her boots and slipped out of the tight denim. She tossed her pants off to the side before fixing her gaze back on Gwen.

“Come here,” Jessica ordered. Gwen crawled forward and knelt in front of her. Wrapping her fingers in the younger woman’s hair, she used them to pull her even closer. “Alright, Miss Pretty-in-Pink. Now’s your chance to show me how much of a fan you are.” She grinned lasciviously.

Gwen easily obeyed the tug on her hair and kissed her way up one pale, muscular thigh. She did her very best to show Jessica Jones exactly how glad she was to be on her knees in front of her.

After her hero’s climax, the blonde sat back with a satisfied sigh, still at the other woman’s feet. “Well, that was fun,” Jessica said, grabbing her nearby clothing and swiftly pulling the pieces back on.

“Oh.” Gwen seemed to wilt for a moment before recovering. “I mean, yeah, that was super fun! Glad you came in for a drink.” She flashed a grin before slipping her sweater back over her head. She didn’t bother to put anything else on as she trailed after Jessica who was now sitting on the couch to pull on her boots. Gwen watched reverently as she laced them up before draining the remnants of cheap whiskey from the bottle still nearby.

The blonde watched as the private investigator slid her leather jacket back on and walked to the window. “I have a door, you know,” the girl laughed, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Jessica said dismissively, swinging her leg out onto the fire escape and slipping out. She paused, then turned around and leaned over the sill into the tiny apartment. “Hey, what was your name again?”

“It’s Gwen,” the girl said with a smile. “Gwen Poole. Will I see you again?” Despite her casual words, she sounded hopeful.

“Well, your apartment does come equipped with a pretty sweet lookout perch. Guess it depends on if these photos turned out alright or I have to come back for more.” Jessica smirked before reaching over and pulling Gwen in for one last kiss. “So I’d give it a solid maybe.”


End file.
